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I just moved to a new apartment a month ago, and it’s way more space than I’m used to. I finally have some furniture (nice furniture!), except all my books have a home on the floor. I only have about two bookshelves and they fit my cookbooks and my art books. That is about it. Too many books. See?

Books here, books there, books everywhere! The sad thing is that there are about 400 books in my library here in this apartment, and almost all the rest are at my parents house, sitting there, waiting for me to rescue them and put them on brand new bookshelves. If I brought them all here, the floor probably would collapse.

But in the next couple of days I am leaving on my big conservation trip to Israel. Yay! I cannot wait to see all the archaeological sites which are such a huge part of Israel’s history and rise to statehood. I cannot wait to meet all these new friends at the kibbutz, and I cannot wait to handle such important artifacts.

I decided that I would just use my old backpacking pack to carry everything around; it makes it easier for me to carry archaeological supplies, school supplies, and clothes in easily accessible pockets, and also means I won’t be that person rolling a suitcase through sand. Unfortunately…I have so.much.shit. (Although I am incredibly excited about my new travel hair dryer and my camera charger with European plug-in add-ons).

Summer, to me, has always represented traveling to new places, eating the cheapest things available (because you are spending all your money on travel), and reading all the things you couldn’t read during the winter because you were too bogged down with schoolwork. This summer has been sort of up and down. I have been going through some huge transitions and it makes me feel completely unorganized. There are still unpacked boxes in my den, I still don’t have a washer and dryer, and now I am about to leave the bedlam for three weeks to go tromp in the desert.

But that is why traveling is so important. It can take you away from those little things in life that were giving you so much trouble, and change your perspective in a minute. You go from worrying about being able to pay rent, cleaning every day, and making sure you exercise every once in awhile to meeting new, different people, hearing stories, becoming a new person in a way. You no longer worry, you just exist, and are happy existing. If I could go to a new country every three months, I would be the happiest person in the entire world.

Of course you get homesick. But that homesickness is also beautiful because it makes you appreciate the home and family you were taking advantage of when you left. Traveling is the best way to become outgoing, it is the best way to understand humanity, and it is (cliche) the best way to understand yourself. Never in your life will you feel so alone or so connected to every human as you will when you are traveling. And coming back is its own reward. You never go back to the way you were before. And it’s a good thing.